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Ah, The Strip Clubs: Part 4 - My Two Stripper Girlfriends

Kevin: Can you believe it? She likes cocaine, marijuana, other women and she’s a stripper.Nathan: What are the odds?

I have been in two long-termish, steady relationships with strippers. These relationships were founded on dishonesty, sexual energy and a complete disregard for sobriety in all its many troubling forms. Unfortunately, neither of these beautiful women and I could make anything click. The first relationship ended with me getting my ass kicked by a room full of metal heads. The second ended when a thrown vase missed my head by about three inches…while I was sleeping. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s take a look at my two failed relationships with strippers (all names have been changed to protect me).

Laura

Laura and I dated for three months. I met her while she was on stage in a Catholic school girl outfit. I remember being completely taken by her beauty. After she determined that she knew me through some mutual friends, she offered me a free lap dance. Not to use a cliché, but if that lap dance had been a flag it would have been redder than a cherry in grenadine. We walked out of the club, arm in arm, at roughly seven in the morning. From there we went to her Illinois apartment and fucked each other’s brains out.

Some sex is just insane. Some sex scars you, exhausts you and just plain astonishes you. Sex with Laura was insane sex. Every time we made love, furniture broke, angry screaming could be heard, and the dog hid. I’m not kidding when I say, going into her apartment with her was like preparing to go to war. I used to joke that I should have worn a cup.

It sounds so perfect doesn’t it? I had great sex and a party girl who, incidentally, never let me pay for anything and always knew somewhere to have a good time.Well, here’s the catch: strippers have lots of guy friends who want to sleep with them. And I mean, lots. Laura was no different. Anyway, these poor bastards really hated seeing me go from unknown status straight into boyfriend status with Laura. Like many strippers, Laura had met a lot of guys who gave her money, and the ones who gave the most ended up as a part of her circle of friends (she teased them along just enough to keep them shelling out the cash), and this circle was comprised entirely of men who wanted me out of the picture. So, while my buddy Sean was doing well with another stripper at a party, and Laura was at work, somehow, for whatever reason, I was hit in the back of the head with a forty ounce bottle. Later, after they broke his nose and threw him down a flight of wooden stairs, Sean was consoled by his girlfriend (despite the fact that he was about twenty minutes from cheating on her before he got jumped by a long-hair) and I broke up with mine. I remember our last conversation.

Laura: So you’re gonna break up with me just because a bunch of my regulars kicked your ass. Quit being such a baby.Me: The only reason I’m talking right now is because I think you should get to hear my voice before I hang up the phone for the last time.

And that was that. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson, but I didn’t. Seven months later I started dating Kristin (yeah...like, that’s her name).

Kristin

I’ve mentioned before that almost all strippers favor illicit drugs. Kristin got wasted too much even for a stripper. She was stoned every morning (early evening), on coke every work day (late night), and drunk every night (early morning). Her mood swings had mood swings. One time, she hit me square on the jaw for, and I quote, “That shit you always pull.” Are you hearing this? She hit me for being me, and she was my girlfriend at the time.

Anyway, the relationship was more like a one-girl freak show with me thrown in as a role player in that month’s “Something to get Dramatic About” episodes. I didn’t mind the biting, the weird guys and weird chemicals that showed up all the time at her apartment, or even the time her brother took me hunting and threatened to kill me (pissed off guys with guns are never fun), but her freaking out really got to me.

And then one morning (early evening) while I was sleeping the sleep of the sleepy, I heard a crash and felt shards of ceramic all over me. I awoke to discover a broken vase near my head and her standing at the foot of the bed, brandishing a butcher knife. Seven minutes later I was out the door with most of my clothes, my car keys, and a heart beat so crazy that I actually went to the doctor for a checkup. Two weeks later she called and apologized for her actions and asked if we could get together. “Oh sure,” I said. “Let me call you right back.”

I then called the phone company and changed my number.

Now, all women are crazy to some degree, much like all men are jerks to some degree. And I don’t know if there is a class of men filled with more jerks than any other class (though I’m betting yuppie fraternity boys would have this market cornered), but strippers are definitely more insane than most women. And sure, the sex usually is very good, the parties usually are very wild, and the feeling you get when you walk out of that strip club with your girl (which isn’t usually allowed) is a really good one. However, it also feels good to keep your head on your body, your eyes in your head, and your body out of a hospital. Please keep in mind, this is one man’s opinion. I don’t think all the words in the English language could keep a man from trying to go home with a stripper, but still guys, a relationship with a stripper is not something you want to get into. Trust me.

That is so true, I had a friend that dated a stripper her name was kat, this girl threw him in to a whirlwind of crazy!! And because I was his best friend I got to come along for the ride, this girl had warrants in every other state, lied so much she didnt' even try to keep her story straight, had her 3!! kids taken away because of drugs, and ended the relationship by getting but in jail for stealing little boys clothes from a walmart!! She didn't even have any little boys. Strippers are some crazy bitches...you have been warned!!

you know, you really have no idea....all strippers are the same? that's like saying all guys are as stupid as you. Yes, unfortunately MOST are.
Keep living in your ignorant world sweetie...
others who are reading this...how to sleep with a stripper?? WTF!?! you know you're dirtier than the girls who (probably were so severaly abused have no other idea) go home with you.
Grow some morals..
maybe even brains...
I'm not lucky enough to have a lot of money..
i'll be done with grad school in three years thanks to this business...
I hate, and yes... get ALLL the money out of idiots like you... as much as I can...

Your articles do not give accurate insight into strippers themselves. Though you are most definately a typical "player" customer. Not all strippers are insane. But the longer you work in the business or are a customer; the more numb and messed up you become.
I stripped for over a year. I did it to pay for school and rent and food. I was a virgin, I have never taken any drugs and never offered guys "extras". I hardly drink and don't smoke. I was brought up well and was privately educated. If you met me you would not believe i was ever a dancer. There are many different girls in the clubs and I want to dispell the degrading sterotype. All the time that I worked in five different clubs, in different states; around 25% of the girls fit the drugged up, crazy stripper image. The rest come in, make their money, go home and hide what they do from everyone they know. Most girls are also genuinely lovely people who want to pay their way through school or pay off debts or need to support their children because their bum of a dad left them. And the ones that do fit the sterotype have generally had really awful lives.
I was struggling to pay bills and worried about be able to continue school. Then one day I was sexually assulted and that's what pushed me to start. I thought quick money would make me less vunerable.
Once you start, it is like an addiction. The wad of notes in your garter at the end of the night make you feel amazing. Like no one can hurt you. It sounds lame but you don't relieze how much you are hurting yourself.
I began to think what I was doing was fine and that I could handle it. I got completely de-sentivised to men looking at me abd touching me. I saw them and saw money. If I hadn't had fallen in love, maybe I would have eventually turned into the sterotype that ignorant customers think of us.

But after about ten months of stripping I met the most wonderful man and seeing how much it hurt him that I was getting felt up by 30 guys a night made me relieze that NO MONEY is worth you. Every time you pretend to some middle aged divorcee you like him feeling your breasts it's like your own self inflicted abuse. What you guys that go to these clubs don't know is while we are smiling at you and laughing with you and hugging you and drinking your champagne, all the time we are thinking "ugh, how much money can I squeeze outta this sad wanker". Strippers always tell lies, the fake name is just the start. Don't believe anything a stripper says in a club until you get her real phone number. And that will only happen if she is also a prostitute, or she believes you are going to shower her with gifts, become one of her regulars, or in very rare cases she actually likes you. But unless you are super hot and lovely and interesting it won't happen.

Anyway, I finally quit. I miss earning over 1000 dollors per night (yes I look like a barbie and am a total hustler). But I love not living a double life anymore and it's worth it. My boyfriend tried so hard but he could never get over the fact that I was a stripper and six months later we broke up. And I have to live with the fact that what I did made me lose the love of my life.

So guys, please don't think strip clubs are fun and cool, because as soon as you set foot in the door you are hated by all the poor messed up girls who work there and greet you with a smile on their face. And girls, if you are thinking about it, please find the courage to try anything except sell yourself for paper. It ruins you.

And before anyone says it, I'm anonymous because otherwise I wouldn't be able to write the truth. Because I am ashamed of my past.

"But guys, a relationship with a stripper is something you don't want to get into. Trust me."

What a load of ludicrous bullshit!!!

So you have never been shot at before, never been bruised up by cops or thrown yourself off a building before!?!??

Well I have done all that and then some, scary as it may be I'm all the better for doing it!

Screw these insecure jack-asses who think they know what wild men want. Wild men want a wild stripper. A stripper is exactly the kind of girl I want. Someone needs to appreciate them for who they damn well are, it might as well be me!

Risky?!? Pft, life is risk you freaking pin cushion. If you get up in the morning and leave the house, that's a risk of you not getting killed.

Strippers may be risky too...but I'd rather have a girl who's a little freaked then a white house stepford wife like that paranoid freak Bill Clinton!!! And on top of that, most strippers have a bit of emotional pain: I enjoy helping her find some peace and get counseling, that's what guys are supposed to do. Stripper girls are awesome, all of them are.

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